Searching for an Elder PV Cecily

It had been quite some time since Cecily had found herself in the library, but just being in the great room again was akin to seeing an old friend. Not that Cecily had many old friends she might be able to compare the experience to, but judging by the other contexts in which she had seen the phrase used, it seemed to fit the nostalgic and yet deeply familiar experience of rediscovering the library.

What wasn't quite as familiar-- what wasn't familiar at all, in fact-- was the stream of words falling out of the mouth of the girl that stood in front of her. The girl herself tickled a memory in the back of Cecily's mind, her name, too-- a memory that lurked so far back that she couldn't quite call to the front. But it was the contents of her speech that really threw Cecily off her game, because this third year, this surely perfectly competent third year, was asking her, Cecily, for help. And perhaps that wouldn't be quite so shocking, except the brand of help this girl was buying was academic. And Cecily nearly laughed, because she was... not exactly the prime example of an academic, regardless of the stereotypes of her house. But she was older, and she was passing transfiguration-- whether that was directly related to her status as a metamorph or not, she didn't particularly care enough to find out-- so at the very least she probably wouldn't have a negative effect on the girl.

"Slugs--?" That part took her by surprise, but she figured there was a story there that she didn't need to know. "Uh... Hi Willow, I'm Cecily and I'm a fifth year, and... while I can't promise I can help you, there's a very low chance I will actually make you worse... so why not?" Her eyes found the pile of bracelets Willow had pulled out of her pocket, ones that resembled some bracelets she had often seen floating around the castle. Didn't Ami have one of them? It was very possible Cecily was staring at the origin of the accessories right here, because Ami had never quite struck her as the bracelet making type in the first place.

☁ Interacting ☁
@Cecily Quinn

"Ah nice! You are old!" She paused, a strong blush spreading across her cheeks. "Er. Old-er, than I am." Willow plopped down pulling out the materials she needed for this particular assignment. Before Willow could think not to tell the story, she was already telling it as she organized her items. "Basically, I tried to study with this older Slytherin kid and then he got annoyed and made me vomit slugs. I passed out and woke up later in the hospital wing. Don't recommend the experience."

She took a deep breath, taking out a piece of parchment and handing it over to Cecily. They were intricate notes about teacup / teapot to some sort of animal spells. "How- in the world does one turn a teacup into a tortoise?" Willow had obviously tried and failed these spells. She was notoriously bad at transfiguration spells that involved animals. There was just something that felt awful about making animals come into existence or turning them into a box or something. "I just- there's so many things that could go wrong. And I don't want to bring a messed up tortoise into the world because I couldn't visualize it well enough, you know?"

There were countless sketches of tortoises. Obviously Willow's way of visualization was drawing it over, and over, and over. Some were very cute, some were weird and lopsided, some were completely scratched out. One thing was clear: she was struggling.